Poetry

In the classic Books of Common Prayer, Morning and Evening Prayer begin with a confession of sin. Modern liturgical revisers struggle with some of the wording, finding it too definite and too hard to say. The phrase, “…and there is no health in us…” is particularly troubling to them. It shouldn’t be. Because they are…

Judge not before Thou know mine intent, But read me throughout, And then say thy fill: As thou in opinion Art minded and bent, Whether it be Either good or ill. I care not for praise, Nor slander untrue, Of man nor of child, Whatever he be: Truth need not to fear, Who doth it…

I’ve been reading Graham Greene’s Orient Express and this passage struck me. In this scene, Dr. Czinner (a Serbian communist revolutionary) has the sudden urge to seek confession and search out the Anglican priest he noticed earlier on the train. “Dr. Czinner drew the door to and sat in the opposite seat. ‘You are a priest?’…

I travelled these roads with my father once, Long ago. I gallop my mount across the clouds Far from home. Beneath the oceanic heavens Soar his prayers like an eagle above me, Clutching the fasces, a bundle of rods And an axe, closely bound Like a father and his sons, One as the sun…

TO-DAY every thing preaches, in Heaven and in earth; And all preach the same thing; “Come and worship.” The Shepherds preach; For they have not done telling of Christmas night. Bethlehem preaches; For it shows Him born of a Virgin, And born where the Prophet said He should be. The Angels preach, By the memory…

The dove surveyed the vast expanse of sea, Yet found no branch on which to rest her feet. The world lay dead, covered in water thoroughly, Until God’s solemn judgment was complete. Then she, by bringing back one olive leaf, Preached grace and mercy as the floods withdrew. At God’s word, Noah stepped out in…